


Call Me By His Name

by Fiercest



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate universe - non-skating, Crush at First Sight, Fluff, M/M, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: They meet at a mutual friend's Valentine's Day party.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Call Me By His Name

**Author's Note:**

> Just a sweet little vignette that I had lying around that I don't think I'll continue into something longer.

They meet at a mutual friend’s party.

Chris loves to throw theme nights. They range from intimate board game nights, to Drag Race watch parties, to blow-out masquerade extravaganzas. It’s a wonder they haven’t been to the same one before now. They must have been trading off attending. Either way, he feels cheated that Chris never introduced them before and it’s a grudge he will carry with him to his grave, loudly.

There’s a sparkly, pink, heart-shaped wreath around the door knocker and Viktor can’t help but giggle. Happy Valentine’s Day! 

At the first knock, the door swings open. Behind Chris, a crowd of people are already milling around. The noise spills out into the hall and Viktor smiles tentatively in preparation. While no one could ever honestly call him shy, Viktor is not naturally outgoing either. He never knows what to do around strangers.

So he does what he always does, slaps on a winning smile and loudly greets his good friend.

“Bienvenu sexy,” they kiss each other’s cheeks, “Nice to see you alive and well.”

Chris is shirtless, of course. His briefs are white with hearts patterned all over. He’s wearing one of those pink nylon cupid wings they sell at the dollar store. Right below his right eye is a heart-shaped sticker. “Very festive,” Viktor compliments.

“Well, I do what I can,” false modesty is hilarious on the Swiss dance instructor. “Did you read the invite?”

Viktor’s smile freezes in place and Chris rolls his eyes.

“You read it but you already forgot, naturally,” he heaves a dramatic sigh, “I don’t know why I bother.” He hefts a purple tophat as if it weighs the world, though the only thing in it is folded pieces of paper. “Pick one out and find your soulmate for the night.” He purses his lips, suppressing a naughty smile, “Or for the next hour. We’ll switch it up a little later. Make up some fake names, get to know them, see if they meet your standards. Then please for the love of god, make out with a complete stranger. Just because it’s you, I’ll tell you that there’s condoms and lube hidden in the cupboard in the laundry room. Think of it as very slow speed dating.”

“Or very fast regular dating.”

“Hmm, you’re right. Maybe I just work fast.”

Viktor nudges him, “Who’s your partner for the evening?”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got my Romeo all picked out,” Chris toodles his fingers at a handsome brunet across the room, who waves back unsurely. “Wish me luck.”

Of course he found a way to rig it, that’s classic, vintage Giacometti.

Chris shakes the hat at him, Viktor obliges. He plunges his hand down to the bottom and retrieves his half of a matching set. “Charles Bingley.” He taps his chin, “This is Austen, yes?”

“You are an enormous disappointment to me,” Chris informs him with no ounce of irony.

“Glad to see my efforts are paying off.”

Now to find his Jane. He circles the room as everyone around him pairs off. It would be easier if he’d just talk to someone. He tries a couple times, approaching groups, but fails to grasp the thread of the conversation. He always feels like he’s somehow a little outside of things, a little left behind. He’s enthusiastic, but Viktor runs into the same problem he runs into in every social situation. He has trouble connecting.

Eventually, he’s semi-chatted with everyone at the party but has yet to find his ‘Angel’. Sue him, he watched the BBC mini-series. Colin Firth dives into a lake wearing a white shirt. Every figure skating camp he’s ever been to, someone brought a copy. 

Then he spots him at the back of the room. He’s nursing a mostly-empty glass and glancing around him. He looks nervous, his posture all slumped. Still, he might be the most beautiful man Viktor’s ever seen in real life. He’s Japanese; tall, but stocky. His sexily gelled hair contrasts with the dorky (but cute!) blue frames perched on his nose. His jeans are tight; from the front he can see the way they hug his thighs (Despite himself, he hears Mila’s voice in his head ‘oooh… He thicc!’), the black tee he’s wearing is even tighter, straining against his shoulders and taught across his pecs. Viktor needs to swallow. Or lie down. Maybe both. But only if the hottie with the glasses comes with him and follows through on all Viktor’s librarian/dirty dancing/laundry room fantasies, now rattling around his skull.

If he weren’t immediately yanked by the dick and the heart simultaneously in the stranger’s direction, he might have taken a couple deep breaths and given himself a pep talk. Something along the lines of ‘don’t freak him out’ or ‘don’t say anything like-‘

“Hi, you’re extremely handsome, I’m going to be your date for the night!”

He doesn’t know that per se, but he’s definitely hoping.

“Oh! Uh!” Hot Glasses Boy gently but firmly extricates his hands from Viktor’s and takes a step back. In so doing, he smacks his head against the wall. “Mr. Bingley?”

Viktor giggles, “So formal, Jane!”

Cover Model for Viktor’s Latent Tween Fantasies blushes so scarlet, he’s a little concerned. He seems a bit beyond words, Viktor should help him out.

“What should I call you?” Viktor’s already got a fake name all picked out!

Cutie with a Booty (HE-llo!) peers up at him from beneath dark lashes. He’s tall, but still shorter than Viktor, which allows for some very interesting possibilities. “You can call me Yuuri.”

Viktor makes a face, “Can you, uh, pick something else?”

“…Something else?”

“Yes,” oh god, this cannot be happening, “I have this… well, not a brother… a friend? I hang out with this 15-year-old sometimes. His name is also Yuri, so that would just be weird. Can you change it to something else?”

“Change…my name.” He seems upset. Oh no. But of all the things, Viktor has just said, it’s probably the easiest to unpack, so he’s glad that the Cutest Boy Alive is at least trying to take it in stride… and Yuri is a lot to take in stride.

“Would you?”

“Sure?”

“Pick something festive!”

“Ok,” replies Delicious Cheeks hesitantly. “How about Eros?”

“Vkusno!”

Eros hugs himself, looking unsure, “Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Viktor!”

“What? No! You just made me use a fake name and you’re giving me your real one?”

Viktor gasps, “Eroosssss!” He draws out the vowels of his name, terribly excited, “Do you already know me?”

“No!” Eros exclaims defensively, “Chris has mentioned you. Once or twice. He showed me your Instagram. I think. Can’t be sure it was you. I must be confused.”

Viktor says a little prayer of thanks for gym days with Chris, Georgi’s favourite eyeliner and squats as a concept—that and Yuri, because every photo in which they appear side by side, makes his fashion sense look incredible by comparison. Instagram makes him look so much cooler than he really is.

“I’m so glad I left an impression.”

And Eros burns. It’s adorable.

How can he keep making that happen? He taps his chin, “Hmm, you can call me… Lucky.”

“…Like a dog?”

“No.” but he likes how his mind works! “Like, ‘I’m lucky to be paired with you tonight’. I was flirting.”

“Oh,” Eros whispers softly. “If, well I mean- If anyone here is lucky… that would be me. I think. Uh. You’re-“

Viktor grins. “I’m what?”

“Sweet.”

No boy has ever called Viktor sweet before, he preens. “How would you know that? We haven’t even kissed yet!”

Cruel? Perhaps. But very worth it for the fire engine blush, the sputtering and the adorable arm flailing that follows.


End file.
